


colourado + other tales

by wowthatsloud



Category: Haven - Fandom
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-30
Updated: 2014-08-31
Packaged: 2018-02-15 09:08:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,697
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2223405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wowthatsloud/pseuds/wowthatsloud
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>a collection for troublesfest2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. a sight to behold

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kerithwyn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kerithwyn/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> gaze (gays)

The vast sky was slowly engulfed by inky blackness invading the horizon, setting the rustling and noise between the grass and towering trees to a calmer still. Eventually, all was silent, except for the low rumbling motor heading into the town.

The man behind the wheel was tired as the deep lines across his face. He had just wanted the trip to be over, but he had severely overestimated his abilities of long distance driving as well as navigation, which had caused him to become hopelessly lost. Instead of digging himself deeper he resolved to quit, and for tonight that would be the inside the small seaside town he’d stumbled into, that went by the name of Haven.

The people at the small hotel in town had been more than gracious, accepting his service with a genuine warmth that put a smile on his face. That was real service, old school. There wasn’t much like it any more.

For a day as nerve wracking and exhausting as his had been, he felt the only correct way to finish it off was with a nice, cold drink at the hotel’s bar. When he had went to ask for it, he discovered that they were closed, but the pleasant woman at the desk – the owner, he had assumed – pointed him in the direction of the town’s main watering hole instead. Someplace down just a five minute’s walk away, by the name of The Grey Gull. The night air was crisp and invited company, so he made the short walk with ease.

Instant comfort hit him as he walked inside into the bar’s babble. It was the familiar chatter that was light with friendship and familiarity, and a far cry from the hollering, aggressively noisy city bars he’d known the inside of. No, here it was like home: everyone knew everyone and you couldn’t have it any other way. And when he saw that this bar had his favourite German stout on tap, oh, he could have stayed there forever. As it was though, tomorrow was another day, and he’d have to wake early if he had any intentions of still making it remotely on time. So as comfortable as it was in the booth he had to himself at the very back, he knew not to get too cosy.

Instead, absentmindedly, his eyes scanned the room as he enjoyed the taste of the dark malty liquid washing over his tongue. Quite a lively crowd, and a young crowd – definitely younger than him, at least. A few had that shoulder-weariness of those not quite uncoiled from work yet, and others, the haphazard habit of people caught in between two places.  But there was one that drew the eye more than most, even an old man like him could see. The beautiful blonde woman standing over by the door was a bombshell. The stiff formality of work clothes could not restrain her splendour and grace, as he was sure not much else could. She was a real rarity, a timeless beauty that made everyone in a room feel that much better just for being there with her, in a way that much reminded him of his Maude.

Then someone else, a tall dark haired boy with narrow features, stepped into view. At first he had him pegged as the first hopeful of the night, seeing if the beautiful blonde would give him the time of day for just a second, or maybe a phone number? He chuckled to himself, all too familiar with the struggling days of his own youth. But then she turned around and a transformation was complete. He watched the woman’s features open to him, and the man seemed to respond in kind, and just the way they looked at each other told the story. He was once again reminded of Maude, and when they had first met.

Yet as he watched, he realised the similarities dropped off. What had seemed like the beginning of a raptured and passionate greeting had ended quite quickly, neither person moved their arms for a hug or handshake  or any of the familiar conventions, yet they remained looking at each other, conversation very light but looking at each other that same way with a tangible, all consuming intimacy all the while. It was a strange picture in a bustling world of film, as if their souls were trapped rigid in mortal vessels; close, but held back.

Instead, there was a wave. A fast, apologetic spreading of fingers that passed as casual, attempting to distract one from the yearning in the eyes of the other, but it could not. Each was the only person in the world. After several minutes of the same, the boy, who had not as much as picked up a drink in the packed Friday night crowd, rattled off what seemed like parting words to the woman. His thumb pointed off to a hypothetical place, and a short explanation later he raised a hand that he'd have rather been using to hold hers.

He didn’t quite get it. The woman couldn't even try to mask the love and wonder in her eyes, or the boy in his, yet there they were trying to play at casual acquaintances. It was confusion of the sort that was known to make him say “Kids these days,” but he’d had enough of the old man schtick for the time being, so he let it be.

Then the boy was gone, and she was ordering another drink from the longer haired bartender who seemed to be working on eight arms. He spared enough time to get her order almost right away, slipping in a remark while he did it that had the blonde woman in open, head-back belly laughter.

The man didn’t know a lot of things, but he was sure of some: the last time he had made a woman laugh that hard, he’d married her. It was remarkable to witness their interaction, so he leaned forward in his seat now, acknowledging the easy, relaxed nature of their conversation.

And he was sure of something else, too: when people could get to talking like that, the way they were, so relaxed and easy together it was because they were made for each other. Now, certainly that didn’t have to mean anything in that way (his wife had had the same best friend for far longer than either of those two kids had been alive, and they had a similar rapport) but the spark in that bartender’s eyes was too familiar not to make him wonder. _As was that_ , he thought, noting the woman’s hand lingering on his forearm.

Another customer called the bartender’s attention, and the woman was left to her own devices for a while, swirling her drink and pondering. Just as he thought he was about to go back to staring into his drink, there was an unexpected reappearance at the doors of the bar. The first boy from beforehand that had captivated the attention of the girl at the bar had returned. He came to a complete stop at the entrance, staring around the dim room listlessly. Bartender caught sight of him quickly though, and in a few long strides he was standing in front of his companion. A perplexed facial expression matched with wild hand gestures; apparently he had lost something. After a series of repetitions that had come across quite humorously, the bartender seemed to have what he was looking for, whipping out a set of keys that certainly made the other man’s demeanour brighten enough.

He handed them over, but not before stopping to say something, lifting a hand to the back of the other man’s neck so it was nothing less than loud and clear. The harsh cadence of his barked words was enough to reach even where he was sitting, and from the very initial sights it looked like an ugly scene. The bartender's voice was just below shouting, and he did not release the grip on the other man that seemed increasingly strong. Nobody paid them notice, perhaps because they were used to it... or used to them. The facial expressions belied the true nature of their encounter though, as the bartender broke in to a grin so wide it nearly matched the other man's, who didn't seem to mind being half wrestled on the spot. Of course they were rough-housing. It was supposedly just another way of playing around with someone, but the man had always thought it an excuse for gratuitous bodily contact. The bartender never would have gained the opportunity to place his hands on the neck and head and face over, say, a game of chess. Then, for the final goodbye, gently pushing his face away, fingers coming to rest on the lips for a lot more than a solid second. 

The blonde woman had been watching their encounter as diligently as he had been, and he realised now as she sat with a clouded expression, clearly tuned out of whatever the person next to her was saying now. Her eyes danced between the two men momentarily, and her reverie was only broken by the insistent calling of her name, which, if he was making it out correctly, was Audrey.

The man looked from her, to the bartender, to the other man, who was just now making his way out of the doors. Then down to his beer, which sat waiting in its mug, nearly perfectly untouched in all the time he'd been there. He considered raising it to his lips, then decided against it. He'd probably only give himself another headache.


	2. colourado

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what really happened in colorado (t)

There are times when Audrey would rather forget everything going on in her life. The Troubles, and watching them ruin people’s life took a slow but noticeable toll on her happiness, much like the harmless drops of water that erode and provoke insanity. The agony of so many lives of suffering had bled into her, and on top of it she considered her own life and story and oblivion that made her feel like suffocating, silently. She soldiered forward because that was simply what one does in these situations, and because immersing herself into the impossibly complicated web of her past was cruelly and unfortunately the only way to save herself from her imminent oblivion. Even though it was something that hurt her, often physically as much as mentally, it was all to save her life – her self, her town with all its familiar quirks, and her Nathan. The man that she loved, which was something she had only allowed herself to admit far too late.

So it had become a quietly accepted fact that her life would be generally filled with woe, and agony, and general disarray, a constant, dripping reminder of all she was losing and all that she had to gain. All in all, it was an ordeal she’d rather forget, even though it was hard to.

When it was time for her to go off to Colorado, she had been surprised at Duke’s insistence at accompanying her, but decided that having company would probably make sense. She soon came to realise that her decision had been the right one. Her journey halfway across the country to find a James Cogan that might tell her about her past and unearth the truth behind the Hunter Meteor Storm, was literally flying into the belly of the beast. Yet she did not feel the nerves, she did not feel the dry mouthed anxiety that constantly accompanied her with these tasks. Instead, going around with Duke almost made her forget. His wisecracks and pithy remarks at every opportunity filled the space usually reserved for haunting thoughts and nightmares. It was almost an underlying refusal to let this trip be anything else but two people living, and laughing. And that was what it was, outside of the grave handful of minutes they spent following up their leads.

With that, their first day came to an end, productive but going by all too quickly. The open loft of the empty motel room in the unfamiliar place would have usually been the perfect breeding ground for the noxious thoughts peeking at the corners of her mind. But, as if on a divine mission, her companion announced his arrival with a brash, loud knock at the unlocked door, which he let himself into after the polite pause had lapsed.

Audrey was pleased to see him brandishing a six pack of beer, and a smile. Her initial excitement waned as the sensible side of her kicked in however, and she voiced her concern to Duke.  
“Maybe we should save those for another time. It is gonna be an early morning tomorrow, after all.”  
Duke simply gave her a look. It was _that_ look, the one that she had been on the receiving end of for a number of years now that she could only describe as trademark Duke. “I didn’t drive for half an hour to the nearest non-creepy convenience store for an _early morning_ ,” he mimicked, cracking two of the bottles open and passing one to Audrey. She grasped the coldness into her hand. “Bottoms up, Parker.”

Duke nodded a silent toast, raising his drink briefly before bringing it to his lips, and draining nearly all of it in one go. Audrey followed suit. Conversation after that was animated, almost overly so for the sombre happenings at the time, but they couldn’t help their chatter going long into the night, meandering, not meaning anything at times but also not needing to because they could talk about anything at all. Audrey didn’t want to bring the mood down, she was happy there in the dodgy motel room talking about hand rolled cigars and funyons. But she’s human, so she slipped, and then the conversation did veer towards the impending fate that she pretended wasn’t filling her with crippling fear…

“Audrey, you know we can beat this.” Duke seemed so legitimately convinced in his belief that the harsh, bitter laugh Audrey gave in reply sounded cruel even to her ears. She could hear the caustic, cloying frustration seeping out, poisoning the good mood.  
“The meteor storm comes in what, twenty days? And I have nothing.” Audrey hated the way that her voice weakened to helplessness, which was the blunt truth about everything she felt to do with this case.  
“You solved the mystery of the Colorado Kid,” Duke pointed out. “That’s not nothing,”  
“Yeah, I spend god knows how long running around in circles for it and it got me nowhere.” 

Suddenly, Audrey felt her nerves relax, her heartbeat return to normal, and the colossal lump in her throat subside as her fervour eased to calm. It was real, and it was coming. She wasn’t sure if it was a good or bad thing that she was beginning to accept her three week deadline, but it reminded her of the eerie peace supposedly felt by the suicidal. “No, we can't beat this. I only have a few more days left here, and it sucks, but it's the truth. I won't waste time mourning, I want do see things, and do things. I want to live my life.”  
“And you absolutely can.”  
Duke looked up into Audrey’s eyes and saw a shift. The frantic helplessness in her blue eyes had been replaced with something indistinguishable. He noticed the slight shake of her head and the mutter of something he couldn't make out before she closed the gap and her mouth was on his.

Duke reacted to her before he fully knew what was happening, leaning into her touch and bringing his own hands to her face for the seconds of feverish, frantic kissing, which they threw themselves into as if to make up for all of the time they’d yet to have. His whole being was aflame with ardent desire, and that made it that much more cruel when he felt themselves break apart, cold air replacing her warmth and tenderness.

It was like being slapped awake from the dream he’d been having for years now. Audrey, slightly flushed from the contact, and something else on her features. Was it regret… and shame?

Of course. That’s where reality would kick in, and Audrey would hesitate, and blame it on the drink, and of course he’d agree because she so clearly wanted a way out and he would do her the courtesy of affording her one. _It was the drink, it felt strange, it wasn’t right_ , or one of the millions of other excuses Duke had voiced in his head but was too scared to hear aloud for real.

Audrey had the line ready in her head. _'_ _We probably shouldn’t_ , _'_ and _'_ _That was the beer huh?'_ and other half-assed lines part of her mind was using to talk her out of what she was doing. Because it was far too messy, and she had already harmed an existing romance precisely because of this impending oblivion that had consumed so much of her life already, and it just didn’t make sense to wreck one of her only friendships as well.

But it wasn’t the beer. She wasn’t sixteen years old experiencing her first foray into alcohol, and one and a half bottles hardly registered to anything past slightly tipsy. Definitely not to the extent she was going to lie and blame on, because bailing out now would be the safe, sensible option at this junction to perfectly match her safe, sensible life choices.

No, this time, she dared to raise a hand again, caressing the face that openly showed the love its owner was feeling and had done for longer than she'd realised.

When she met his familiar gaze, he asked if she was sure, and Audrey nodded, meeting his lips halfway.

Because the caution and sensibility and fear that had ruled her life had never done a damn thing for her except cause her pain and deny her happiness, and now that that was all for nothing she’d be damned if she let it go on a minute longer. Because it had complicated so many parts of her life into such knots she didn’t want any others to be anything but perfectly simple. And the love she felt for Nathan, the emotion in itself was just that – passionate and fulfilling and sometimes overwhelming, but simple – and it ticked all of the fairytale boxes so she scored a line underneath it, observing that he was clearly the One.

The laughable, naïve assumption that she only had one.

And as she came to kissing Duke, again deeper this time, she was finally admitting to herself that she loved him too. Something that didn't seem difficult, but her wonderful life had made her afraid of expressing that emotion for one person, let alone the can of worms that was two.

If there was anything the last few months with Nathan had taught her it was that _love was complicated_ , and in the normal circumstances that mess would be played out over the years and years of life they had to argue and apologise and compromise and all of those things that human beings did. But that time wasn’t hers, so for now as she lay with Duke with fingers and limbs intertwined she surrendered herself to the fact that it wouldn’t sort itself out in a day and _she didn’t care_. What came in twenty days, in a week, hell tomorrow or an hour from now, it wasn’t her concern. Her only concern was enjoying the time with the man whose bed she was sharing tonight, and making every touch, every look, every kiss count for all it was worth.

So that when she’d be gone, she knew she could cherish all of the moments and memories that the ones most dear to her had helped to create.

 _Especially_ Colorado.


	3. public service

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "bitch don't kill my vibe" etc (nsfw)

Going with the flow was normally a specialty of Lexie DeWitt’s. It had to be, for the sort of lifestyle she led, and as the mantra she not only practised but preached, she thought she was good at getting abreast of things for a while. However, after her first week and a half of living in Haven she’d be lying if she said they hadn’t done a good job of unsettling her usually impenetrable cool. First of all, how she’d passed out in a field in the middle of a town she’d never even heard of was lost on her. For that, she could have blamed the tequila shots and got on with her life, but there was no explaining the crowd of shocked, curious, somehow horrified onlookers that loomed above her as she came to. Most of them stood in silence, many others were armed, and one that had been kneeling right by her had come forward and promptly made out with her, before she could become entirely certain of which way was up. It was _almost_ the strangest way in which he had woken up ever, but the ensuing drama had nothing on anything she’d experienced beforehand.

Tense, rapid conversation had flown overhead as she sat watching the evident animosity ramp up, when the same guy that initiated the unexpected tongue-hockey pressed a gun into her hand, and levelled the barrel straight towards his heart. Okay, _no_. Lexie had very few personal barriers in her life, but murder in broad daylight was definitely one where she drew the line, and she didn’t care whose kink it was. After more tense conversation which she wasn’t entirely sure she followed, Lexie was able to establish to the people that _no_ , she didn’t know who Audrey was and _no_ she wasn’t about to kill this guy she’d never met before, but it would be a lot easier to think straight if they’d all stop waving those guns around please.

So they had done. A few minutes of hushed argument later she was allowed to leave, if only on a very tight leash. She didn’t know what she had done the night before to get mixed up with these people, but it didn’t leave her feeling good at all. She’d have skipped town, but she had no money on her, and the guy that owned the bar in town had offered her some shifts and the apartment above the bar to stay in for some reason. It was a sweet deal, but she soon realised that the creeps with guns didn’t go away that easily, and they had some convulted plan that apparently involved getting her to date Blue Eyes Nice Cheekbones from before.

Now in an odd turn of events, they wanted her on cop duty, because they thought hanging out with Cheekbones would make it easier to get them into bed. Her, with no experience, taking on real police duties so that she might be more willing to bang a total stranger to fulfill this weird town’s weird sexual fantasy. Lexie was reminded of a thirteen year old she’d once babysat, who spent the entire night doing nothing but taping pictures of herself next to shots of a famous popstar in her magazine, so by some illusion it looked like they were together. In her current situation, she couldn’t help but feel an affinity with poor Justin. It was definitely a first for her, as well as beyond bizarre, but  she supposed it wasn’t such a huge ask to oblige them. Cheekbones was far from bad looking, and she’d never been one to make a habit of saying no to people with guns.

That didn’t mean she wasn’t going to do it on her own terms. _War-nose_ was an eventuality, but there was a lot of other things she’d wanted to get out of the way first. The citizens of Haven were a frowny bunch to begin with, but there were two people in particular that had seemed to take their lion’s share of whatever angst-promoting crud seemed to be in the air and it had bothered her and set her off since day one. For starters there was that tall cop, the blonde one that Nathan left her to wait with whenever he was running late on some other job – which more and more was seeming like every damn day he could.On the surface the guy seemed harmless enough, with light hair cut into a number four straight from the barber’s chair, and the kind of deep monotonous voice that was designed to send you right off to sleep. But none of that explained the pure nervous energy that radiated from his every pore, that made him grind his teeth and rap his knuckles on surfaces and do all of the things that drove Lexie up the wall for the few moments of the day she was obliged to spend with him. It must have been a symptom of the job, she realised that; heading a police force would have been hard enough without having said police force in a town that was completely batshit. But she hadn’t had that nervous twitch in her eye when she got there, and it didn’t make her any less reluctant to blame that on him.

At least, in part. It also didn’t help that when she’d go for a stiff drink in a bid to soothe her nerves, she’d find the brooding, raven-haired woman that sat at the bar with unnerving regularity. If Chief Cop had made her feel stressed about things, watching this lady was like staring into a void of doom and despair. There was something about the eyes, equal parts bitter and equal parts utterly hopeless, that made Lexie want to drink herself comatose _for_ her.

Their stress combined to bring her usually upbeat attitude down to zero with clockwork regularity, and she was done with it.

\--*-

Lexie laid her bait like the expert hunter that she was, and soon had the satisfaction of watching it all come to fruition. In the back of her mind she knew it was a risky move, and the guys with the guns probably wouldn’t be happy if they’d seen the amount of times she’d ‘accidentally’ dropped things in front of the cop. In fact, they’d probably be real upset. But the brief touches, knowing smiles and oh so unfortunate clumsiness was all necessary -  she needed to give him a view until the penny dropped and he finally realised he wanted to screw her so they could get this over with already.

After a short while of keeping a professional distance and pretending not to notice her, Big Cop could no longer raise his eyes fast enough, and could no longer keep the colour out of his face when she brushed past close to him just so. In other words, he was perfectly ripe for the picking.

The morning air in the office that day was punctuated by the pecking of a keyboard. After informing her that Nathan would be there in about twenty minutes, and keeping his eyes above the chin (to his credit but not without some effort) Dwight went to take a seat at his desk, perfectly unsuspecting.

Lexie, in her seat by the door, felt a sudden stab of irritation. She got bored waiting there all the time, and her skirt kept riding up. Even more annoying because she _never_ wore skirts, but she had made certain to wear one today, specifically. She had planned on doing this later, but, there was no time like the present after all.

“Listen.” Dwight, who had been just about to sit down, straightened up as he was called to attention. Lexie paced towards him, closing the gap between them with intent, until there was barely a whisper of space between their bodies.  At his height, her mouth wouldn’t reach his ear, but she dropped her voice just low enough that it wouldn’t make a difference.

“Alright, here’s the deal. We’ve got twenty minutes to burn right now, and I can personally think of a few things I’d rather be doing than sitting in that chair.”

She moved herself closer still, so their bodies were almost completely flush, and her chest pressed up against him, moving so Lexie could feel something else going on a little further south.  
“If this pocket rocket is anything to go by,” she whispered, tracing fingers along the tightened front of Dwight’s pants, “you’re really freakin’ hot for me. So what do you say?” Lexie laid it down bare, idly picking up his wrist to check the watch, knowing what the additional touch would do to him. “Nineteen minutes.”

She hadn’t expected the absence of light in his eyes to become so total, or so mixed with frantic worry. It was quite a transformation, and suddenly he was jumpy, checking over her shoulder, muttering to himself and acting the exact opposite way she needed him to. Lexie was surprised to feel him step back and started to wonder if this had been a good idea at all, but the movement only seemed to seal his fate. Because now his eyes were able to sweep her entire body, head to toe and absolutely every curve in between. And the expression that came across his face now told her more than the tentpole forming at the front of his pants ever could. It was one she’d seen many times before and had come to call brains off, dick on. In laymen’s terms – he was a goner.

He began shaking his head, only slightly at first. “I can’t do this,” he said, voice low, gravelly and conflicted; and yet he continued his forward motion towards Lexie. “I can’t- I shouldn’t be… oh my god…”  
 _Come on big boy, just like that…_ Lexie willed him on with a suggestive pout, trying to disperse the boring square thoughts that this boring square was thinking about that were worrying him into backing out. Then his hand circled her waist, the kisses came deep and hot and she knew the deal was sealed. Alright. Now for the awkward fumbling, heavy petting stage, followed by four minutes of quickthrust in-and-outs before she left this guy a new man. Hopefully less boring to be around, and maybe if she felt generous after her faked climax she’d gush about how _good_ it’d been, to really put a spring in his step.

She quickly found herself backed up into a supply closet, with hardly any standing room and even less light. He was on her instantly, hitching a leg up while a hand cupped her ass, searching for the material of panties that weren’t there (Lexie being two steps ahead, as always) and responded to the realisation by what felt like a laugh, deep and rumbling by the side of her face. She made sure to make all the appropriate noises in response to the touching, and the bristly kisses that traced her mouth and neck, and wasn’t having a bad time of it and then… _oh_. She purred in approval at the fingers that had roamed centrally, tracing between her legs in a delightful tease, as his other hand moved deftly to unclasp her bra.

Okay, he _definitely_ didn’t seem like the kind of guy that could do that one handed. Suddenly Lexie realised that, so far, things were going a little bit better than she’d expected. Nothing of the rough handed schoolboy sloppiness she’d come to expect, and in fact, the kisses that were somehow both urgent and delicate were actually pretty nice to be on the receiving end of.

 

After the endless circling one of his fingers plunged inside her, causing a reactionary cry that was muted by Dwight’s mouth as if on instinct. He didn’t say as much, but it was clear he’d rather this encounter of theirs made as little noise as possible. But he continued it still, the fingers now plural inside her, pumping as she felt herself growing increasingly wetter around him, as well as the heel of his hand massaging her clit in a way that just cried out to be appreciated.  His fingers, now slick with moisture, easily slid to pleasure her, willing her to want more and beg more. After several minutes of the knee trembling action, Lexie came to a realisation: _Oh my god_ , she thought, _this can’t be real. I’m going to come. This pencil pushing geek is going to make me come_. And she would have gladly eaten crow at that point for it, but right at the edge of her climax the hand removed itself, replaced only by cold, disappointing air. What cruel and unusual punishment.

When she told him as much, he smirked, replying, “Don’t worry, won’t take long.” Yet he was certainly leisurely in taking her shirt off, taking the time to run thumbs along the curve of each breast before removing the clothing entirely. Annoyingly slow, though Lexie had only managed around half of the buttons on Dwight’s shirt in the same time. Her fingers were slow and clumsy distracted by the feeling of his hands on her, so she settled on the shirt remaining half-open. How she’d never noticed the cut and defined muscles underneath the shirt before was a mystery to her. She was certainly enjoying running a hand along them in any case, from the pec, to the broad shoulder, to shifting the shirt off his arm and- oh my god, were those _tattoos_? From noticing his body, to his ink, and now, just how strong the lines of his face and jaw were even in the dim light she faced a thrill, and not just from the mouth that had steadily moved its way to lavish attention to her chest, teasing each nipple with tongue. Big Cop was a _hottie_ \-- contrived ideas of bad energy be damned, she really wanted to fuck him. And although the slow, gentle kisses he lavished on her were headspinning, they didn’t compare to the feeling when he unbuckled his belt, pulled his pants down and moved in between her parted legs.

“Oh, _christ_ ,” Lexie breathed into the side of Dwight’s neck, tightening the idle hand she had thrown into his hair as he moved inside her. They always talked about the quiet ones, and she had never quite understood why until their clandestine encounter that day. There was a quiet moan as he eased into her – from him this time, the first audible cue he had given as of yet. But as he began rolling his hips against her, building that everlong friction into something palpable, they certainly increased in frequency, as well as volume. As did Lexie’s. Especially when the pace began to increase, and she was being rocked against shelves that were digging into her back and would probably leave a mark tomorrow but she didn’t care – quite frankly, she was too busy being fucked senseless to notice.

He went slower now, probably as much for his benefit as hers at first; if she could feel anything from the rise and fall of his shoulders it was that he was a light breeze away from blowing his load right then and there. Lexie couldn’t blame him though – she was too. So it was a crawling pace until he got used to her once again, and she, all of him, and the lack of speed meant she felt every inch of him going in. She raised her head up just a notch as his muted groans became more pronounced, and she barely had to whisper since their noses were practically touching now, mouths seeming even closer. But she wanted to be clear for both of their sakes, so she waited until his lips were against hers.  
“Make me come.” She pronounced every word, so that if he didn’t hear her he’d feel her, and the imperative tone carried by her voice.   

It was nothing but loud and clear. In the end, it was only a few of the powerful thrusts that finished her. This time he didn’t try to shut her up – perhaps for the satisfaction of hearing her hitching breath turning to long sigh, turning to wailing, barely  stifled moan as she arrived at shuddering, body-melting orgasm.

Soon his rocking, back and forth motion slowed to a stop and he pulled out of her, beginning to stroke his length with quickened breath as he prepared for climax of his own.               

Lexie all but batted his hand away as she got down on trembling, unsteady knees. If he thought he was going to finish himself of after _that_ , he had another thing coming and then some. It was only polite to return favours, and since he’d already screwed her senseless, well, she was going to suck him dry. It started with just the tip, which she began with, slowly rotating her tongue around the end until she heard the sex-unique combination of gasp and groan emenating from his throat. Dwight murmured something else she couldn’t quite catch as Lexie took the rest of him, or what she could manage, widening her mouth to allow entry to his girth. And there, she sucked gently, using her lips, tongue, fingers with gusto while his moans grew in frequency and duration as he grew closer and closer to climax.

Feeling his cock throb and twitch at her mouth let Lexie know he was all but there. She stroked it once for the satisfaction of feeling the hardness she’d brought upon, and then, taking him into her mouth again it wasn’t long until she tasted the hot, thick salt of his come, going for every last drop as she tried to take the rest of him and feeling the end of his cock thrust nearly at her throat as he bucked his hips in mindless ecstasy. Whatever he had been trying to say had become incomprehensible; his fingers wove through her hair as he thrust once and finally, speech corrupted into grunts and half formed curses. Once she released him, groaning lowly in the aftermath of his orgasm, it was because she was satisfied that the man was well and truly spent. She wouldn’t have it any other way.

Eighteen minutes and thirty-seven seconds after she went in, Lexie emerged back out from the supply closet, smoothing over her skirt but still looking significantly more dishevelled than she had been before. A moment later Dwight followed, returned to his desk and resumed tapping away at the keys of his computer. Neither person said a word.

Not a minute afterwards, Nathan strode in, all business as he entered greeting them both. He didn’t clock the fact that Lexie didn’t usually wear her hear _that_ messily. Or, thankfully, that Dwight was never that dazed and distracted in the workplace unless something had gone terribly, terribly wrong – or, as in this case, terribly, terribly _right_.

Nathan began to fill the chief in on his morning’s work, explaining the fallout of one of the more minor Troubles and how it was being dealt with. “It doesn’t seem to be too much of a problem now, but just in case it blows up, I might need you and a few other guys out there to…”

Dwight looked up when Nathan stopped mid-sentence, tensing as the other man’s expression turned increasingly suspicious.  
“Hey, what…” Nathan looked down to Dwight’s chest, then back at him. He was stone-faced as the other man’s ice blue eyes bored into him at the close distance. Then finally, Nathan began to shake his head, part pity, part disgust visible on his features. “I can’t believe this.”  
Dwight blanched.  
Nathan pointed once again to his chest, where the mismatched buttons had been hastily put together, leaving his collar askew. “Those early mornings are really getting to you, huh?” His grin turned into a short laugh of amusement at his apparent disorganisation.  
“Something like that,” Dwight mumbled. He didn’t look up from his desk to avoid both of them – the cheery amusement on Nathan’s face, or the sultry smirk on Lexie’s. Instead he waited until they were both gone, at which point he steadily blew out the breath he had been holding.


	4. public service, part ii

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (under construction)

[insert builder graphic here]


End file.
